Fighting
by goddamnusername
Summary: Emotions, gore, and lying galore. Cas/Dean, Gabe/Sam to come in later chapters.


A very tall man stood upon mashed grass. He was throwing salt at riled ghosts who were circling madly about screaming at him.

His wounded brother painted white and red with pain. His brothers body was writhing in the delivery of great, crimson holes.

"Run, Sammy, run! They'll get you," Screamed Dean.

"Naw," responded Sam with a valiant roar, "these ghosts can't make me run."

Howls of renewed fury went up from Dean's throat. Tattered Dean on the right made a furious attempt for the dug up grave. The ghosts followed and on their grave, sick faces there shone the grins of true murderers. As they charged, they threw stones and cursed in shrill chorus.

Heavens littlest ex-angel stumbled precipitately down their side of the hill. His coat had been torn to shreds in a scuffle, and his tie was gone. He had bruises on twenty parts if his body, and blood was dripping from a cut in his head. His wan features wore a look of a tiny, insane demon.

On the ground, Dean closed in on his objective. He crooked his arm defensively about his head and fought with curing fury. Sam ran to and fro, dodging, hurling his almost gone salt and swearing in barbaric trebles.

A stone had smashed into Dean's mouth. Blood was bubbling over his chin and down upon his ragged shirt. Blood made furrows on his dirt stained cheeks. His thin legs had begun to tremble and turn weak, causing his body to reel. His roaring curses of the first part of the salt and burn'em routine had changed to blasphemous chatter.

In the yells of the whirling mob of ghosts there were notes of joy like songs of triumphant savagery. The ghosts seemed to leer gloatingly at the blood upon Dean's face.

Castiel came fast, the chronic sneer if an ideal fire sat upon his lips.

"Gee, took ya long enough Cas." Dean murmured before passing out. Cas looked around for Sam but he was nowhere to be seen.

"Cutting things a bit close back there don't you think?" Sam was striving to stanch the flow of blood from his cut lips. Scowling, he turned upon the speaker.

"Ah, what the hell, where the hell were you when we were doing all the fighting?" He demanded.

"I'm not part of your 'family business' Sam, I have my own to deal with."

Sam replied with impenetrable ire "What and there's absolutely no time for helping us? Would it really kill you to help out just once?"

"Don't you think you're being a little selfish?"

Sam's face twisted, deciding what emotion to wear and when his fists finally clenched, they struck each other, clinched, and rolled over on the rug. The combatants pounded and kicked, scratched and tore. They began to weep and their curses struggled in their throats with sobs. The two men, fighting in the modes of two thousand years ago, did not hear the warning.

After feeling a something come down on Sam's head. He made a furious effort and disentangled himself from Gabriel. He tottered up, damning.

Gabriel arose painfully from the ground and, confronting his brother, began to curse him. "C'mon now," Lucifer cried "quit your whining or I'll tear his head off, we have work to do."

"Finally working for a side huh..." Gabe heard Sam whisper behind him.

Gabe and Lucifer departed.

A sullen-eyed man, followed by a blood-covered boy drew near. "You look like hell." Bobby stated "I should know."

"You wouldn't have happened to see Sam by any chance would ya?" Dean asked glumly.

"No, why? Lost him again? That's the fourth time this month... he'll show up."

Dean scornfully punched a car. "What the hell is going on this time Bobby? I can't take this anymore, I thought Sam had learned enough lessons in what happens when we keep secrets from each other. What happens when we separate..." Dean looked over at Cas, who was looking at the sky trying to stay ignorant to the conversation. He looked away, there wasn't anything Cas could really add to the situation anyways.

Sam strolled in a few days later, Bobby didn't bother to ask, he already knew Sam wouldn't say. Dean was asleep and Cas caught a glimpse before hurriedly deciding a walk was needed. Sam knew Dean was threw with his unelaborated disappearances, but he was just unsure about what his disappearances were. It wasn't like he was drinking demon blood behind his brothers back again. It was more like he had joined fight club and was just letting out aggression. The job had him worked up all the time. With Dean always trying to die for him and Cas being the most awkward human as can humanly be, he just didn't know how to handle his spot on team fucked up.

Sam sat on the edge of Dean's bed and put his head in his hands sighing.


End file.
